If You're Reading This
by MiLady Oakenshield
Summary: "If you're reading this, I'm already home." -MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH; based off Tim McGraw's If You're Reading This.


IF YOU'RE READING THIS

…...

Clint Barton knew he was dying.

He didn't have much time left.

Sheltered for now in some ass backward hole in the ground, gun fire rounding above him, to his side and somewhere in front of him. His chest moved but only slightly as the darkness rolled in and gripped at his lungs. He was finding it harder and harder to breathing. Air escaped the bullet holes in his chest.

But he had to do this last thing. If he died here, and now, without saying goodbye, he would regret it forever. So Clint feeling reached into his pack and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.

…...

Natasha's knees buckled from under her. The sudden weightless felling swept any support from her body and pushed her onto the couch. Steve was at her side in seconds, and Fury was handing her a folded piece of paper with blood droplets splattered all over it.

She took it from him and unfolded it.

_My Darling Natasha,_

_If you're reading this, it means I'm dead. Look like I only got a one way ticket over here. Sure wish I could give you one more kiss. War was just a game we played when we were kids._

The assassin closed her eyes to hide the tears brimming behind her thick lashes. Steve's hand was between her shoulder blades and Fury was standing there in front of her.

_I'm laying down my gun, I'm hanging up my boots, I'm up here with God and we're both watching over you…_

…...

Clint coughed up blood from his lungs.

He peaked out of wherever it was he was hiding to see men shouting in Russian running past him, guns leveled at their hips and shoulders. They couldn't tell where he was. They didn't know. They just knew they hit him and he was bleeding out somewhere.

The archer assassin reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a white gold ring. His wedding band. Two years ago tomorrow would be his wedding anniversary. He raised the wedding ring to his lips and kisses it. The white gold became stained with blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

He always took it off and kept it in the pocket closest to his heart when he went out into the field, and always put it back on right before he came home. Clint feebly slipped the ring onto his fingers then picked up his pen and continued writing. Droplets from his mouth trickled down his chin and dripped onto the paper.

His handwriting was less than perfect.

…...

Natasha gripped the edges of the paper tighter.

_So lay me down in that open field out on the edge of town. And know my soul is where I always prayed that it would go. If you're reading this…_

…_I'm already home._

…...

He laid his head back against the rock, closing his eyes for just a moment.

…...

_If you're reading this, half way around the world, I won't be there to see the birth of our little girl…_

Natasha dropped a hand to her swollen belly.

They were going to name their daughter Caroline. They had plans for her. Clint had stayed up the entire night painting the baby's room just before his deployment. He even carved out her name in block letters and nailed them to the wall.

…_I hope she looks like you. I hope she fights like me. Stands up for the innocent and the weak…_

They talked about the possibilities of taking time off once the baby was born. Knowing they wouldn't be able to do this forever, they even considered retiring from active duty.

…...

Soldiers rolled in.

Two of them followed Clint's signal to his hiding spot, and found him slumped back against a rock with his eyes closed. They reached for a pulse and found none. The older marine began chest compressions while the other called for a medic to their location.

_So lay me down… In that open field out on the edge of town… And know my soul is where I always prayed that it would go…_

The medic team arrived and stripped the archer of his vest until he was bare chested. They attached him to a portable EKG machine. The line was flat. One of the medics placed a pair of paddles against Clint's chest and charged them. The archer's body jerked, but there was no activity of the heart monitor.

…_and if you're reading this… I'm already home…_

…...

_If you're reading this, there's going to come a day…_

Natasha sat on the bench while her five year old played in the jungle gym. She brought a hand to her chest where her necklace rested. And dangling from the silver beaded chain was a white gold wedding ring.

…when you'll move on and fine someone else… and that's okay…

Steve sat beside her, one arms draped over her shoulders. His fingers occasionally brushed over her collarbone. She lifted a hand to his and smoothed her digits over his knuckles then lolled her head against his shoulder.

_Just remember this. I'm in a better place._

_Where soldiers live in peace… and angels sing amazing grace._

…...

The funeral was brutal.

Full military honors, complete with armed guards, uniformed officers and a twenty-one gun salute. And at the heart of it all was a grieving widow.

_So lay me down in that open field out on the edge of town…_

When they were seated, on each side of the casket, and Fury standing at the forefront, Natasha placed on hand over her belly and the other in her lap. No one dared look at her, but all knew. Even Thor had come from Asgard dressed in his best.

…_and know my soul is where I always prayed that it would go…_

Marines in dress blues covered the casket at all sides. Each took turns folding the large American flag draped over the pristine brown casket. At the last fold, one of the marines grasped the flag, turned sharply and walked over to where Natasha sat, dropping to one knee in front of her.

"…On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service.."

The flag was presented to her, and Natasha's hands shook lightly as they took it from the man in front of her. The man sitting beside her, dressed in Army colors, didn't fail to notice the light tremble in the woman's hands as she pulled the flag to her chest and cradled it over her heart.

The marine stood and joined the others in salute.

_If you're reading this… I'm already home…_

**A/N:** _Okay, kill me. The thought occurred to me when I was listening to this song, which ALWAYS brings tears to my eyes. Clint's profile states he served in the military branch of SHIELD, so I just thought having him serve as a marine would be something that would suit him. I also realize this may not be completely how a military funeral goes so if I offend anyone, I apologize. This is just a bit of fiction meant for enjoyment._

_I'd love to hear your response, and don't forget to read my other Clintasha story, Uncharted._


End file.
